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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29666628">Dreamweaver</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki'>DarthSuki</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hades (Video Game 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>As established as one can be when you've only seen Mystery Sleep Man in your dreams while alive, Character Study, Comfort, Comfort Reading, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gentleness, In a form, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon, This is just Full of Soft Feelings, gender neutral reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:21:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,772</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29666628</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a man whom you dream about. A man you’ve never met but he feels real all the same. Golden eyes and ashen skin, clothed in crimson layers that look more fitting of an old Greek myth than what you’d see otherwise - an intimately familiar stranger whom greets you the moment your mind falls into the soft embrace of sleep.</p><p>When you die and find yourself taken to the underworld, you finally have a chance to meet this man: his name is Hypnos.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hypnos (Hades Video Game)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>135</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dreamweaver</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! So I've been playing the Hades game for a few weeks and I'm really having a lot of fun with it. Though there is plenty of eye candy through the entirety of the game, of course I latch onto the first gremlin I find which, in this case, is Hypnos. I love him so much and had this idea rolling around my head ever since I first saw that beautiful sleepy man. </p><p>I might continue this story with how it's currently set up between the reader and Hypnos. I think it has the potential to be absolutely <i>adorable</i>, but let me know what you think of the setup! I just... love him so much ;w; he's gotten literally all of my nectar bottles obtained since starting up my save file.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Death isn’t quite what you thought it would be. Not entirely at least. There’s just moment of nothingness - as if life itself doesn’t exist - before quite suddenly you find yourself stepping out of an ebbing river’s tide of warm, crimson blood. It doesn’t seem to stick to your skin despite how warm and slick it feels between your fingers, but it does soak through your clothes for as long as it takes your brain to process the moment through.</p><p>
  <em>You’re...dead?</em>
</p><p>The sound of voices and shuffling draw your attention up from your blood-covered hands.</p><p>A hallway opens before you at the top of a walkway leading out of the bloody river. You step forward cautiously onto the incline, all the while waiting for your feet to slip out beneath you or some other force of cruel fate to send you sputtering once more beneath the surface.</p><p>
  <em>Where are you?</em>
</p><p>Of course, there is no immediate answer. As you look left to right, up and down, the world seems all the more bewildering; ancient-looking statues lining the walls, mixed with inlays of gold and carved skulls of stone. Even the marble floor beneath your feet is equally as alien to you, looking more from the temple of an opulent cult of death than anything else. </p><p>But it’s the specters that put terror in your bones.</p><p>Half-faded forms, humanoid but cloaked and completely transparent from the waist down. They appear as if a figment of your vision, hovering across the hall. Several even emerge from the pool of blood behind you, seemingly unbothered by the dark liquid that clings to them for all but a few seconds before fading away. They say nothing to you as they pass. Still, you can’t help the sense that they notice you all the same. It’s as if many eyes lay upon your form from the moment you stepped out of the pool yourself.</p><p>But you continue to step forward. One foot in front of the other, trailing blood behind you for a few moments before as if magically whisked from your body and falling back to the river behind you.</p><p>There is someone at the end of the hall. Not a specter, but not someone like you. The person seems to have a defined humanoid form, and is clothed in lavish garments colored like blood and bespeckled with golden accents. You can tell that their complexion is ashen even from the distance, but it’s the glimmer of their eyes - golden as the metal adorning the rest of their outfit - that grab your attention like lightning.</p><p>“Oh,” the voice that falls from their lips is masculine, but lilting and casual. “I haven’t seen someone of your sort come in here for a while. Is Demeter angry again?”</p><p>You know on some level that the general shock of being dead and in the afterlife - seemingly an underworld of some sort - should take importance. Regardless, there’s something about the nameless man’s jeering tone that makes your lips purse and your brows knit together warily.</p><p>“One of <b>my</b> sort? What in the world is that supposed to mean?”</p><p>He tilts his head for a moment, but the lazy grin seems almost permanently affixed to his lips.</p><p>“Oh I’m sorry!” The man waves a pen in one hand and then gestures to his other, holding a thick-looking book. “Just noticed it said in here that you’re one of the newer mortals and all. Not many of them end up in our house.”</p><p>“Our... house?”</p><p>The figure chuckles.</p><p>“The House of Hades,” he answers, writing something down in that book of his before looking up at you again with such soft eyes that, for a moment, you swear you’ve seen before. Ashen skin, snow-white hair. Golden eyes... But the man doesn’t seem to notice your blank stare. “Lots of different mortals go to lots of different places when they die. Where their soul is connected to most, of course. But you’re here, so that must mean y’got a connection somewhere among the pantheon.”</p><p>You blink. It’s hard to take in all the information when the man is speaking so quickly - or perhaps you are just slow to absorb it all.</p><p>“Did you have a patron?” The figure asks after a moment, interest seemingly genuine despite the fact he looks eternally sleep-deprived, to fall asleep at any given moment. “Head honcho likes to keep a tally. Mostly for bragging rights at this point. Oh oh don’t tell me, was it Zag? He’s a big up-and-comer, newest god on the block.”</p><p>Another moment passes before you dumbly shake your head. Only half of his words seemed understandable, and the other half unbelievable. At the same time your brain is feverishly trying to place why every flash of those sleepy, golden eyes leave you feeling... wistful? Familiar? You’ve certainly never been dead before, so it’s not as if you’d met the man in this same situation. But <em>why</em>?</p><p>“What’s your name?” you finally blurt out without thinking, if only so you can place a goddamn name to his face. Greek gods? Pantheon? Your mortal memory is fuzzy, and it’s hard to remember more than a few simple things at a time - try as you might to come up with an answer yourself before he does, but to no avail.</p><p>“My name?” the man looks momentarily confused. “Nobody usually asks for that. Just shuffle right down the hall so Lord Hades can put them where they need to go.” </p><p>He purses his lips and raises an eyebrow, continuing only when you hold your expectant gaze in stubborn silence; you try not to ponder about how his eyes seem so calming despite the situation, like a hand soothing over your panicked heartbeat.</p><p>Golden eyes hold yours for but an extra moment, emotion unreadable before he speaks, “You can call me Hypnos.”</p><p>Hypnos. The name sends a shiver up your spine and into your death-hazy thoughts to clear out the fog holding the connection just far enough from your reach to remember. Suddenly, you realize why his name is so clear, why his face and eyes bring such familiarity to you within an otherwise terrifying and unfamiliar place.</p><p>“...I’ve seen you before,” you murmur after a few moments, memories like icy cold water rushing to fill the gaps of memory that not even death can hold back any longer. “I’ve <em>seen</em> you.”</p><hr/><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Even though thunderstorms terrified you, you somehow managed to find peaceful slumber between each booming crack of thunder that seemed as if right outside your window. Hard and sudden and overwhelming, leaving your entire body trembling from the moment the first drops of rain would patter against the roof of your house.</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>But even then, you somehow find such comfort in sleep. Like how your blankets wrap tight and warm around your shoulders, the sweet abyss of your dreams offer such a wonderful respite from everything that scares you in waking life.</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>There’s a man whom you dream about. A man you’ve never met but he feels real all the same. Golden eyes and ashen skin, clothed in crimson layers that look more fitting of an old Greek myth than what you’d see otherwise - an intimately familiar stranger whom greets you the moment your mind falls into the soft embrace of sleep.</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>“Don’t be scared,” he oft murmurs to you, tugging his soft overcoat around your shoulders and pulling you close against him. “It’s just a storm. Mortals like you like to think it’s Lord Zeus throwing a tantrum up on Olympus. And I’ll let you in on a little secret-” he hooks a finger under your chin, lifting your face just enough so you can look into his eyes and see the gentle, sleepy amusement sparkling behind pools of gold. “-they’re not exactly wrong about it.”<br/></em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>He waits until the corners of your lips widen just a little before pulling your face back against his chest, the two of you floating among the dark, dreamlike abyss that feels as if it’s your entire world.</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><hr/><p>There were multiple dreams and, unlike others, you could recall them almost perfectly each and every time you woke. It had been such an odd experience, repeated even, that you’d chalked it up to a form of self-comfort despite how much they stood out in your mind against what most people described of their senseless dreams. </p><p>An imaginary friend made manifest only in the safety of sleep.</p><p>In front of you now as a familiar figure, Hypnos looks... awkward? His eyes don’t meet yours for longer than a single heartbeat at a time, and his cheeks take on a dark shade of lavender that is hard to miss on his pale skin. For a few moments you have to wonder if he doesn’t recognize you in the same way you do or, worse, what you’d experienced wasn’t entirely <em>real</em>. Who are you to assume a godly force would single you out among the rest of the world?</p><p>But after a moment, Hypnos clear his throat and closes the book in his hand with a dull thump that echoes in the cold, still air.</p><p>“So uh... you remember all that huh?”</p><p>The words draw your attention back up to his face - still as flushed as before, if not moreso - and he finally meets your gaze again. It takes a moment before you realize he’s looking for an answer to the question, and you nod your head fervently as words seem to fail you in the same moment you seem to realize that you’ve forgotten to breathe a bit.</p><p>The death-keeper clears his throat again. More as if a copout to offer words than anything else, but even he can’t let the silence trail on for all that long. Eventually he turns his gaze back further down the hall. It takes a few moments before you realize to follow it, peering into the vast open space that the hall opened into. Distantly you could see an empty desk, one far too massive for any normal person to sit upon. You can still tell how it towers above your height many times over - but it is not nearly as large as the massive, crimson-colored three-headed dog that lays in slumber just beside it.</p><p>Cerberus, your mind finally offers. The three-headed hound of hell.</p><p>You let your gaze linger for a few moments before turning back to look at Hypnos, who is looking at you in kind. His eyes look a little less sleepy in that single moment, though you can’t quite identify the soft emotion that’s taken its place.</p><p>“...I’m not supposed to put favor in mortals,” he finally murmurs, quietly, as if someone might hear. “You might say I don’t have enough rank for that luxury. But I eh... I thought your dreams looked pretty. Drew me in. A lot.”</p><p>A moment passes. </p><p>Hypnos continues quietly, “I never thought that you’d show up <em>here</em> when you died. Like I said, most mortals right now don’t have a strong enough tie to our realm for my brother-er, Charon. For him to ferry their soul across Styx.”</p><p>And then, it becomes clear: why he’s flustered, why he’s nervous, and why still he didn’t seem to recognize you at all when you first walked out of the pool of blood - the river styx. But at the same time you can’t help but feel a sudden warmth building up within your chest, so strong that it supersedes everything else down the line of priority for your brain to deal with later (such as the dying and all).</p><p>You wring your hands together and glance down towards your feet.</p><p>“I think it was you.”</p><p>A moment passes. Hypnos makes a sound of confusion, and you try to offer some quiet clarification without drawing the attention of the ones he seemed not to want to hear.</p><p>“You... asked before if I have a patron. Or had one.” There’s such a delicate pattern of gold laid across the marble floor, one almost impossible to notice if you weren’t staring at it. “I didn’t have a patron but... I did look forward to seeing you in my dreams. I... sometimes wished that I could meet you in person, though back then I thought you... didn’t really exist.”</p><p> A moment passes. Then another. And another. After having held your breath for so long that your lungs burn you wonder if Hypnos had even heard your soft words, but you’re proven wrong in the very moment your gaze flicks back up towards him. He looks absolutely flustered, brows drawn tight over his eyes which <em>stare </em>at you with an unfamiliar, but not wholly unwelcome emotion that seems to reach the deepest parts of your soul. </p><p>And then, suddenly, he opens the book half-forgotten in one hand and starts scribbling something in it. </p><p>“I’m just-” he says hurriedly, “-going to put down your patron as Zagreus. It’s not uh, like he checks the list all that much anyway. I-...I uh. Yeah, we’ll just do that.”</p><p>You take a short step closer to try and get his attention again.</p><p>“... Does that mean I can’t talk to you anymore?”</p><p>Hypnos’ eyes snap up almost instantly at the question.</p><p>“Of c-course you can! Just because you’re dead doesn’t mean everything stops. Plenty of stuff to do otherwise, and I mean-” he’s doing absolutely no good at hiding the heat across his cheeks, or the way the once-jeering man seems to stutter over every couple words. “Normally you’d go on to uh, get placed within the underworld. But I could see if... there’s a spot open here to help out. I’m sure that Dusa would appreciate it.”</p><p>Perhaps it’s the raw honesty of his tone that leaves you partially stunned. The look of something in his golden eyes that take a while for you to realize is anticipation. He waits for the answer, <em>your</em> answer, if the strange connection between the two of you is enough for you to remain or move on.</p><p>Even if you had the choice to leave to any other realm of death - which you’re certain isn’t true - you’ve known the answer since the moment recognition filled your mind to the sound of his name.</p><p> You reach a hand out to take one of his, and shyly lace your fingers together to which he doesn’t reject. For a moment you almost expect him to feel cold against your skin. Instead his hand is surprisingly warm, as warm to the touch as you remember from your dreams that seem as recent as they do old.</p><p>“I’d love to stay here, Hypnos,” you finally say. “I wanted so badly to meet you before, and I still do now.” A moment passes, and you arch a brow in amusement. “...assuming that’s still on the table?”</p><p>“Yes!” Hypnos all but squeaks suddenly, but quickly regains his voice just as his hand holds yours in a renewed grip - firm, but not painful, as if testing that you are real. “I uh, I think you’ll really like it here. There’s a lot of great people you’ll get to meet.”</p><p>“I’m excited to see them then. I... don’t know very much about this realm, admittedly, so you might have to help me around for a while.”</p><p>Hypnos nods, “Of course! I wouldn’t be that great of a host if I just let you bumble around the hall unsupervised! You might run into something nasty like a violent shade, or a monster... or Meg on a bad day.”</p><p>He babbles on for a few minutes more, quickly introducing you to a couple aspects of your new world with a renewed sense of excitement, alike what he’d greeted you with after meeting him fresh from the Pool of Styx.</p><p>“Oh! Also, there’s something else I <em>know</em> that will make you happy here - can’t say I’ve heard the same from any other realm <em>(though admittedly I’m not allowed in any other realm).”</em></p><p>You tilt your head to the side, realizing that your faces are barely just a foot apart by now but unwilling to step away; his eyes truly are like liquid gold, and shimmer with every word that falls from his lips.</p><p>Hypnos smiles and leans forward to the side of your head to whisper as if it’s something of a secret between the two of you alone. And maybe he is.</p><p>“Down here,” he murmurs, your cheeks brushing for just a breath. “you’ll never have to be afraid of another thunderstorm ever again.”</p><p>You never thought such simple, little words could make you feel so comforted and safe.</p><p>But they do.</p>
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